One Degree
by Buckle
Summary: They say that everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of seperation. But for AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one. [PreFFVII] [drabblistic] [Edited Chapter 5, different ending]
1. Wine Colored Flowers

**One Degree**

_They say everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of separation. _

_For AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one._

_**Tifa and Aeris**_

Wine Colored Flowers

The lights flashed, signs blinked, and the roar of the city twined around the young girl who was quickly losing herself to the neon and halogen glamour. Wine eyes were wide and unblinking, trying to soak in the sights around her, barely daring to blink for fear of losing it all. People walked around her, though never touching – that was Midgar, she'd heard it said. All crowds and crowds of people who never touched, as if the coldness of the city forbade such contact with a stranger. But Tifa stared at this city, and wondered how anyone could say Midgar was cold. The warmth flashed and burned around her, lights winking down at Tifa as her seven-year old mind rushed to process it all.

And just like that, Tifa Lockhart lost her parents. In one moment, they were clutching at her hand protectively, and in the next she was being jostled by the crowd, hand cold in the absence of a squeezing hand. Tifa cried out, but the crowd took no notice, and merely parted around the girl like a small rock in a mountain stream. But a greater clump of people came and moved her with the crowd, and the little girl tripped and stumbled and screamed for her parents who couldn't hear her.

The delightful roar of the city was now the roar of a lion, shuddering her bones and making tears well in her eyes. They would never find her! Midgar was _huge_. How would they find her, at her height, among the cold blacks and grays and charcoals of the business suits and the large, unforgiving buildings that stretched so high, as if attempting to block the sun, as if trying to stretch higher than the stars.

Just like that, Tifa Lockhart was in the darker part of town.

How it had happened, she wasn't sure. But the crowds had dispersed, leaving a more meager trickling of people. She stumbled about until she was where she was now, the city threatening to swallow her in its gaping mouth. Tears spilled down her face until she wiped at them with an arm. She was tough. She was _strong._

"Flowers!" a voice that seemed scarely older than Tifa's own called. "Flowers!"

And through the chunks of people who walked around here, Tifa's eyes locked on one figure that stood against the greys and blacks of the city – a small figure clad in a pink dress was holding a basket of bright, beautiful flowers. Tifa started to automatically gravitate towards the girl, until a sleazy looking figure sauntered up to the flower girl.

"Hello cutie, are you lost?" Tifa could hear the man say.

_THUMP._

The man was promptly smacked on the head with a rod of sorts. "You little bitch-" he lunged, but something caught his attention. He looked to his left and noticeably paled. Without another word, he ran off. A different man leaned down and said something to the flower girl – this one apparently her friend – and she nodded solemnly and turned, putting the basket on her arm and setting off at a light jog towards home. The man she was talking to – not in a grey or black suit, Tifa noticed, but blue – seemed to have disappeared – and the girl didn't notice as a bundle of bright flowers fell out of her basket. Tifa stared at them, and the feet smacking the pavement grew louder and she saw them all around the flowers. Midgar _was_ cold. They would be able to crush something so beautiful in it's stone fist, crush the colors with their blacks and charcoals, smother the flowers under the sole of their too-shiny shoes.

Tifa rushed forward and knelt, gingerly picking up the boquet and cradling them like a baby might.

"W-Wait!" she called out, and started jogging after the girl. "Wait!"

The girl didn't turn, and Tifa realized she probably couldn't hear or didn't realize she was being addressed. The flower girl had slowed to a walk at least, though quick, but Tifa picked up her pace and called out "Wait!" one more time.

People were no longer around them, only the occasional hobo curled up asleep against the wall. The girl turned, bright green orbs that were her eyes settling upon Tifa's wine ones. Tifa walked forwards, boquet of flowers extended in her delicate hand. "Here," she said lamely, "You dropped these."

The girl smiled, and even the slums seemed to brighten. "Thank you." She said, and tucked them into her little basket. Then, considering, she rifled through her basket and seemed to decide on something. Indeed, with a big nod she plucked out a flowers and stretched her arm out.

"Here. For you!" she beamed.

Tifa gently took it, eyes wide. It was the most gorgeous flower she'd seen, and had no name for it – almost like a rose but a deep red, bordering purple. The flower girl smiled. "It matches your eyes! Plus, it's a special, rare flower – I've been saving it for someone special."

Tifa stared at the flower, gently stroking the petal. "Thank you," she said almost reverently, awestruck.

The girl looked at Tifa, scrutinizing. "Are you lost?"

Tifa looked up and was about to say 'Yes' when a shout came from behind. "Tifa!" a voice bellowed. "Tifa!"

She turned and gasped. "Daddy!" she cried and ran to her father, jumping up and hugging him – though careful not to damage her flower. It was only then she realized her dad was sobbing. "Never, ever scare me like that again, promise?"

"Promise daddy."

"If you get lost go find a police man, you hear me?" he sobbed.

"Yes daddy. Where's mommy?"

Her dad put her down and tears ran down his face. "Tifa…Your mother is-"

"One second."

Her dad wiped his face and Tifa turned. "Thank you flower gir-"

But she was gone.

--

**A/N:** The premise of this is that all the 'main' characters of FFVII - namely AVALANCHE and the Turks - met each other at one point in their life, whether it was just a glance of the person during an otherwise significant event, or like this one, an actual meeting. This event could have happened anytime from their birth to the beginning of the FFVII story. So, as you can imagine, with 13 characters - 9 from AVALANCHE, four from the Turks - that would 156 drabbles. Maybe it'll get that far, maybe it won't. It would take a hell'uva lotta time though.

This scene had been on my mind and the next will be** Tseng and Tifa** - and based around this same event.


	2. Clueless

--

**One Degree**

_They say everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of separation. _

_For AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one._

_**Tseng and Tifa**_

Clueless

There were two little girls in this dark crowd today.

Tseng's eyes drifted from the flower girl in the pink dress to a dark haired girl was walking, stumbling, crying in the midst of this shady crowd. But the hat little girl with dark stopped dead in her tracks, and Tseng followed her gaze, which led straight to Aeris. A smile curled onto Tseng's lips. Yes, Aeris…drew eyes like a magnet, pink in the maze of dark lab rats. However, the next person to look upon the flower girl was much less innocent. From his place in the shadows, he straightened. None of the passerbyers saw him, but he saw them. He saw them all, from the business man having the sordid affair to the poor slum man starving so he could feed his family. But for now, he only saw the flower girl and the sleazy man.

The man got a well deserved thump on the head. Tseng smirked, but knew that the man's next reaction wouldn't be walking away. So he walked smoothly from the shadows that seemed to stick to his blue suit. He walked calmly and deliberately, staring at the sleazebucket the whole time. Apparently he felt Tseng's eyes on him, because the sleazy man turned and saw the suit – his face contorted into a look of panic and horror and he quickly fled.

Good choice.

He walked up to Aeris, who always hated being confronted like that (but a for little girl selling flowers, it was bound to happen), and hated hitting people even more. She seemed slightly upset, so he bent down, hands on his knees as he whispered in her ear. "Why don't you go home Aeris – the bad man's gone."

Of course, that was so far from true he could barely contain his laugh. The bad man wasn't gone, the bad man was whispering in the flower girl's ear, the bad man was slowly walking away from the girl, following the sleazy pedophile. Once the sleazy man was far out of eye and ear shot of the flower girl, Tseng silently fitted a silencer on his gun and shot once, twice. The man fell to his knees, then faceplanted in the ground. Tseng tucked away his gun and turned back to return the way he came – men like that didn't deserve to hear their own death whistling too them.

Maybe Tseng didn't deserve to either – but he wasn't that worried. Silencers had long been out of even the black market, until everyone forgot how to make them or didn't want to give them up. Probably three existed in the world.

The Turks had two of them. The third was buried under a floorboard in a house owned by an old man who lived in Mideel.

Tseng felt pretty safe.

As he walked back, he stopped – Aeris was walking towards her house, staff in one hand, basket in the crook of her other arm. Something melted inside of him, and he shook his head briefly. He began to walk again, when another voice made him stop. "Wait!" a little girl's voice cried. He turned to see the little girl from the crowd running up to Aeris, a bundle of flowers in her hand. Tseng watched the exchange between the two girls silently, until the little brown haired girl turned from her father to Aeris – except Aeris had gone.

But as the little girl turned turned, her eyes alighted on him and wine-burgundy eyes locked with his. Those eyes stared into his, as if seeing past the blue suit, seeing not brown eyes but the window to his soul, staring deep at his darkest secrets. She tilted her head just the slightest bit, as if squinting through his window, and trying to understand what was happening inside. That little girl stayed there, and he was trapped in those unique wine-burgundy orbs.

Almost as unique as Aeris'.

She met his eyes one last time, and in wine pools he saw the most unexpected emotion – sympathy.

Then she turned away, as if he was never there, and rushed to her father.

Tseng shook his head and turned to follow Aeris home, never knowing he'd see those same eyes years later, staring at him through the picture in her file; a file made after she attempted to take down Sephiroth with his own sword. An attempt that she made when Sephiroth murdered the very man crying behind her. No clue that a couple years after that, he'd see those eyes once again, again through a picture, this time about her involvement in AVALANCHE. No clue that not even a year after that, he'd see those wine-burgundy eyes one last time, looking at him the same way they had those many years ago – filled with sympathy. Except that time, he'd deserved it, dying with a sword wound, red blood darkening his blue suit.

But who was it to say that he hadn't deserved it the first time?

After all, he _was _Clueless.

--

**A/N:** Hope you're enjoying these. Give me feedback - does it suck? Is it good? Could I do better?

Tifa and Tseng, no more than a glance in the crowd. I'm having trouble figuring out how to do Vincent, since he was asleep when they were all born - except Cid and Barret. Well, I have an idea for one - Vincent and Yuffie - but I don't know if that's next or not. Suggestions welcome. Probably **Reno and Tifa **next, or **Reno and Marlene** since it's the only two I can think of. Will happen when they're (well, REno) older than the age Tifa and Aeris are here.


	3. Never Stood a Chance

**One Degree**

_They say everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of separation. _

_For AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one._

**Reno and Marlene  
**

Never Stood a Chance

Children shouldn't be in bars.

Then again, who was Reno to be judging? A good amount of his own childhood was spent in dark, shady places. He had been a slum kid, just like this girl seemed to be, and slum kids didn't really stand a chance at growing up someplace 'repsectable'. Maybe bars were no place for children, but they fit just right for slum kids. This little girl, however, seemed out of place in these slums, her happy smile not lighting up the slums like in the clichés, but rather making it seem to Reno like she hadn't seen much of the world she lived in. Her purple dress was spotless and swished as she twisted from side to side, standing by the door to welcome customers.

Rude had recommended Reno to come here, saying that the drinks were good, and it was quiet or loud enough depending on the occasion, not to mention the busty and beautiful bartender who could kick your ass as easily as she could mix up a drink. When Reno walked in from the nip of the fall cold, the bartender had apparently left her post at the bar for a moment. He heard a small thump, like something jumping down, and Reno found himself staring down at a little girl who'd jumped off a chair. She beamed up at him, eyes bright and hair pulled partially back, secured with a ribbon. Reno stuffed his hands in his pockets and noticed that a large black, bear-like man was shifting in his chair to glare in a threatening way – even less of a threat and more of a promise. A promise that if he even touched the little girl he'd just as soon wish he hadn't.

"Welcome to Seventh Heaven!" she chirped, beaming up at Reno.

"Yeah?" he asked, amused.

She blinked at him, as if thinking of what he had said. "Yeah." She nodded.

"And who're you, yo?"

"Yo?"

"Yea. Yo."

"Well I'm Marlene…yo." She giggled, hands covering her small mouth. "Who're you…yo?"

He smirked. "Reno," he extended a hand to the little girl, who took it suspiciously, gave it one big shake before dropping it.

"You're a Turk." She said frankly, looking at his suit.

"Yea."

She frowned. "Turks are bad people."

He was almost taken aback – of course he knew what she was saying was true, but to put it in such blunt, innocent words coming from such a small mouth, it took him by surprise. "Yea, I guess so."

Marlene's eyes stared up at him, almost disapprovingly. "So you know?"

He grinned. "Yea, I know."

"Oh." She said, and then thought for a moment, face set in deep concentration. Then she looked back up. "So why do it?" she asked. Her father, the bear man, didn't seem to like how long Reno was talking to Marlene, who was now getting up onto the tall chair behind her. Her legs swung as she sat, looking at Reno the whole time.

Reno shrugged. In a book or movie or something, this would be the revelation moment for the 'bad man' like him. For him, it was a question he often asked himself, and had long ago found the answer. "Well kid, it's all I got."

She seemed unconvinced. "I always figured that you guys did it because you didn't know it was bad. But there's always a chance to do something that, Mr. Reno-Turk."

Reno ran fingers through his hair. "Unfortunately, kid, I had a probably never had a change. Living where I did and how I did with who I did…well kid, I really didn't stand a chance." Not many slum kids did. "Now it's just me and this suit, Mars. Besides, the man who leads us saved my life."

This was apparently more appeasing, for she considered him, her head so delicately tilted to one side. "Mars?"

He raised both eyebrows at her. "Yea. Mars. That's you."

"Me?"

"Marlene. Mars."

She seemed to weigh the name, turning it over in her mouth and her brain, judging it. "I like it. Sorta." She decided. She gave a big nod and he returned it with a small one, and began to walk away. But no sooner had he taken 3 steps than he heard her heave a big, fake sigh. "It's a shame, you know." She called.

He turned his head and looked back at the source, the little girl who now shook her head in disappointment. "Yea?"

"Yea."

"And what's a shame?"

She looked at him and shook her head once more. "That someone with such cool hair has to be a Turk."

He gave a laugh, and the bartender returned from the back room. "Catch ya round, kid."

"Bye. Yo."

He ruffled her hair, and the big man at the table stood up – Reno now saw he had a gun for an arm. Even still, Reno gave him an arrogant lopsided smile and then turned away from him to sit at the bar. But before he could say anything, the little voice came yet again. "Mr. Reno-Turk!" Marlene called from her chair, hopping down and running over.

He looked down. "Yea?"

"Here." She said, and handed him the purple ribbon that had been in his hair.

He raised his eyebrows. "What's this?"

She beamed. "Now you've got more than just you and that suit!"

With that, her father swooped her up and took her out, Marlene waving over his shoulder as the bear-man muttered in her ear about dangerous people. Reno turned the purple ribbon over in his fingers as the bartender leaned forward on the bar, as if daring Reno to look down her shirt so she could kick his ass for doing it, and smiled softly. "That's her favorite ribbon." The woman said softly.

"And?" he scowled at her, demeanor of only a few seconds ago gone. She frowned and he could practically hear her mind registering her misjudgment.

"Nothing." She said, straightening and turning to reach something on a shelf. Reno didn't even look as her skirt rode him, but instead, stared down at the ribbon he was running fingers over.

And when he thought no one was looking, Reno tucked the ribbon into his pocket, thinking of the only slum child he'd met who actually stood a chance.

--

A/N: Don't ask about Reno's apparent obsession with the word 'yea,' because I have no clue. And the 'yo's seemed like soemthing Marlene would giggle about.

These are coming alone pretty fast. I'm just going to submit them as soon as there done, no waiting for a certain amount of time to pass. Unless I know I won't be able to write for a while, in which case I'll space out whatever ones I have.

As I realized at about 6:30 this morning, on my way to dance, there wouldn't be 156 drabbles unless I wrote each encounter from the viewpoint of the others person as well. Which I won't.

So this technically could be Reno and Marlene, Tifa, and Barret. But it's not going to be. Reno and Tifa will probably be a conversation shortly after this event. Sorry if these are turning out to be not very good - they're just my little pet crapples. Drabbles. Crapples. Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.

If that isn't a hint if I've ever say it, the next one is **Yuffie and Vincent.** As Demeter1 pointed out to me (which I'd admittedly forgoteen), Vincent mentioned that Yuffie's weapon seemed familiar. Also, don't expect there to be only one Yuffie and Vincent. There will definately be multiple, from each viewpoint - so this is technically Yuffie and Vincent Numero Uno. They are, after all, two of my favorite characters, Reno right in there with them.

One last thing is that I want to point out that where it mentions the two characters of the drabble, that whoever's name is mentioned first is whose viewpoint it will be from. Just wanted to point it out.

End of Longest Author's Note Ever.


	4. Boogeyman

**One Degree**

_They say everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of separation. _

_For AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one._

**Yuffie and Vincent**

Boogeyman

"Yuffie?" Godo bellowed through the halls of the pagoda, in a most un-ruler like way. "Yuffie!"

No shout came. Godo was forced to wander the halls and check every room (with the help of servants) before it became quite clear his daughter wasn't here – but she was definitely inside the pagoda. There was no doubt. Paling, Godo walked to the very bottom floor, and walked over to a corner. Lifting a tapestry, he stared at the wooden wall before reaching between a gap between two boards, slipping his fingers into a handle and sliding the wall to the left. A black hole lay where the wall had been, and he climbed inside, shutting the door/wall behind him.

It was obviously a passage, the circular hall having enough height to stand up straight. Godo walked along and quietly took a torch from the wall, finally coming to a set of stairs. He took to the stairs and followed them as they curved around, until he was at the bottom and went through a door, entering a room. "Yuffie!" He called.

He was in a plain room that had doors all around, all with the same circular shape. But as he walked to the center of the room, the wall started to move. They started to spin in a circle, and Godo sighed, squatting so he could enter a code into the keypad on the floor. The wall slowed, and then stopped, all the doors (he knew) in the proper place. "I know you're down here Yuffilene!"

A shouted protest came from one room, and a girl no older than 6 came scampering out of the door and stood with her hands on her hips. "Godo! It's Yuffie!"

"It worked." Godo sighed. For a year now, she'd stopped calling him dad and started calling him by his name, sounding so strange coming from such a young girl. Yuffie stuck out her tongue before running back into the room. Godo followed her, having to duck his head as he walked through the doorway and then standing straight as he entered the room.

The room was a filing room, but the walls themselves were the cabinets, each drawer labeled. A armchair sat in the corner, though the cushion had been dragged off so Yuffie could sit comfortably wherever she was looking. The very top of the wall had a groove so that the top wheels of a wheeled ladder could enable to seeker to slide along the length of the room. It was on the very top of this ladder the Princess Kisaragi stood, looking through a drawer at the very top of the room.

"Yuffie." He said sharply. "What are you doing?"

"Looking," she said in a singsong voice.

"How did you get down here?"

"Godo," she sighed, "You should probably change the code. Anyone could get down here."

"Then what is the code?"

"Mommy's deathday, that's what."

He shifted. Maybe he _should_ change that code.

"And why," he said evenly, "Did you pick that drawer?"

"Well." She said evenly. "I didn' knows what Turks was, and it was way high up so you obviously didn' want me lookin' soooooooooooooo….I picked it."

He shook his head. It spoke volumes for her character though – usually the heir was brought down here when they were 8 years old (she was two years early) and told to pick a drawer. It was a test of character, to understand the future ruler better. That Yuffie had picked what she didn't know, much more on top of the room showed she was either drawn or oblivious to danger, else wise unafraid of it. That she had picked something she didn't know and ultimately dangerous reinforced the drawn to danger, and showed that she was curious. When Godo was here, he'd picked a drawer smack dab in the middle of the wall, and it had been the beginnings of profiles on the Wutain people.

"Did you look at any other drawers?" Godo asked. She nodded, and pointed without looking at another drawer near the top, this one about the royal family, starting with the current one and going back to the first known rulers. "Why that one?"

"I wanted to see my profile." She said. Godo shook his head – he hoped that didn't mean she was conceited. Selfish, maybe. "Any others?"

This time she grinned. "Materia!" she cried, pointing to the appropriate drawer. It contained all known materia in the world, the ones that had once belonged to Wutai, and the history of materia. Godo shook his head and took the cushion back to the armchair, sitting as he observed her daughter. She threw a couple files to the floor, which landed with a slap. Finally Yuffie half climbed half jumped of the ladder, looking at the files. They were near the front, which meant they were the greatest Turks – the highest threats. Right behind those were the current Turks, then proceeding backwards, just like the Wutain Royal Families files.

"Godo," she said, in a voice just like her mother's, "What are Turks?"

He stared at his lap. "Come here Yuffie."

She obeyed, trotting over. He picked her up by the stomach, to her squeals and flails, and he plopped her on his lap. She shifted to one of his legs, so she could look up at him. "Daddy?" she said. His heart twisted.

"Turks are…" he said quietly, trailing off.

"Daddy? Turks are…?"

"Monsters. They kill because they are told to. They murder without a thought, and they have no souls. They work for ShinRa."

"…that explains the soulless part," Yuffie said. Godo laughed heartily and ruffled her hair.

"Hey!" she said, running fingers through shoulder length hair before hopping out of his lap. She walked over to her cushion and plopped down on it, laying on her stomach as she looked at the file names. Her little tongue stuck out of her mouth in concentration. "Valentine?" she chirped, and Godo's head snapped to her so quickly his neck cracked. "I thought that was a holiday?"

"Bring that over here," he said weakly, color draining from his face. Again she obeyed, picking up the file and crawling onto his lap. He stared at the dusty file and shook faintly as he read the name.

Valentine, Vincent

He opened the file to the cover sheet.

**Name: Valentine, Vincent**

**Status: Presumed Dead**

Vincent Valentine's blue, one eyed stare caught his eye. Godo stared at it, color draining from his face. He was trembling as his eyes scrolled down, ignoring age, blood type and the rest of that nonsense. Finally, brown eyes alighted on what he dreaded seeing.

**Last Known Mission: Administrative Research**

**Assigned to: Doctor Hojo, Doctor Crescent and Doctor Gast**

Godo had obtained this file a little under a year ago, straight from ShinRa. Not that ShinRa knew of course. This was ShinRa's version of events – Wutai and Godo however, had another. Godo's shaking hand turned the page to the next one. A near identical sheet stared at him, with a few, large differences. Vincent Valentine no longer had the generic employee picture, but a series of pictures, barely any with a full face view. The cover one was a close up of a face in profile, long hair whipping around his head as one red eye stared at Godo.

**Status: Presumed Alive**

Yuffie was humming a tune her mother had taught her, softly singing the words. Godo froze as he listened, straining his ears for her soft, delicate singing.

"Red eye at night…" she sang softly. Godo froze as the haunting tune twirled around his head, filling all the empty places in his heart with dread.

"Red eye at morning…" her voice dropped again, "…take warning."

No. She couldn't be saying…she couldn't remember…she couldn't _know_. "Yuffie!" he snapped, grabbing her by both her small delicate shoulders. Pearl grey eyes stared up at him in alarm as his grip tightened.

"Daddy!" she said, fear in her voice. "You're hurting me!"

"Yuffie!" he cried, "What did you just say!"

"I was singing Daddy!" her voice shook, and tears were welling in her eyes. "The sailor song!"

"Sing it!" Godo roared.

Yuffie was nearly crying, voice and body trembling. She couldn't sing, so she just said the words. "Red sky at night, sailors delight, red sky at morning, sailor's take warning!"

Godo stared at her. "Is that the truth?" he asked in a low voice, anger seeping into his words.

"I swear it Daddy!" she whispered. "Upon Mama's grave I swear it!"

He let go of her shoulders, and with it, all fear and anger. Her teary grey eyes met hers, and his very veins filled with shame. She recoiled from him, but he swept her into a hug, and rested his lips on top of her head. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered, and her shaking reduced. "I didn't mean to scare you, but I just got…I was afraid." He hugged her and they stayed there until her shaking stopped and she seemed calm.

"What could scare _you_?" she asked in awe, eyes staring up at his innocently. He was still the big ruler, her daddy, her fearless father, her protector. Even though he hadn't been that much in the last year – and it was during those times she called him Godo.

"Him." He said, and she picked up the file and looked at it.

"Who is he, Daddy?" she asked innocently, looking up from his picture to her father, not a hint of fear in her face.

"He is Vincent Valentine, Yuffie." He breathed, staring down at the one eyes gaze. "And he the biggest, baddest, scariest monster of them all. Vincent Valentine, Yuffie, is not just a monster." Godo looked down at the file once more.

**Last Known Mission: Assassination of Sayuri Kisaragi, Queen of Wutai**

"He's the Boogeyman."

--

A/N: Yuffie and Vincent fans: Don't. Kill. Me. They are my two favorite characters, and I know this isn't really an encounter, but it's just the first - it has a follow up. But that one isn't going to be any sweeter than this one. I'll make sure to throw in a sweet VY encounter drabble somewhere.

So this isn't that good, but...they are only drabbles. Hope you enjoy. Wait for the follow up - may be the next one. It's the only one I have an idea for, anyway.


	5. Snack Time

**One Degree**

_They say everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of separation. _

_For AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one._

**Cid and Yuffie**

Snack Time

Lighting up a cigarette, he inhaled that sweet nicotine before turning to the task before him. He grimaced – it was depressing, this was. An airship, not overly large but quite nice on the inside, was sitting before him. He had to admire it though; the airship was deep red in color, making Cid think and long for red velvet cake. Even more like the cake his mouth was starting to water for, white designs adorned the red, smaller Wutain symbols making a border around the deck. But the most evident design was a large dragon-snake whose tail started on the deck and then spilled over to the side to open its mouth wide and threatening as its deep blue-green eyes glittered at the water. There was one of these dragons on each side, the tips of their tails coiling together. Cid had to admire it, for the eyes were made out of some jewel, shining at you as the scales glittered at you with barely-there gold borders.

The beauty had landed only earlier today, though landed was glorifying the descent. It had skidded to the ground in almost a flop, sliding and kicking up mud and tearing up grass. Rocket Town had rushed out to the field surrounding their town to watch in awe. Cid had been no different.

_The shrill whistle had pierced the air, and the townspeople looked around. No one was sure who did it first, but finally someone looked up and shouted. Above, a large red dot in the sky – an airship – was whistling in the sky, and most discomforting, a plume of dark smoke stretching behind it. Screams pierced the air as it came closer, and closer, and the townspeople scuttled back. Cid stared at it. That thing was going to crash and _**burn.**_But to his surprise, there was still some control over the ship as it turned sharply and skidded to the ground before sliding to a stop a little past awed townspeople. Behind it was a long stretch of mud and dirt where the airship had torn up grass._

_As the people rushed over, a section of the side of the airship lowered as a boarding ramp. Stares came as figures descended off it – and soon it was apparent not just _any _people. Off the ramp descended a dark haired man in a blue suit, accompanied by three other people who were dressed just the same, down to the shiny shoes and stoic look. Turks. Then, as they parted, a blonde haired teenager came down, smiling disarmingly and wearing a white suit that made him look three years older. Yes, descending the ramp was the already-Vice-President of ShinRa, and the President's son, Rufus ShinRa. He wasn't alone._

_The next to come down was equally prestigious, and not too happy looking about ShinRa or the airship. But Godo Kisaragi, the leader of Wutai smiled pleasantly and smoothed his kimono. A small figure trailed after him, clutching his hand as she tried to wipe off the tears that had stained her cheeks. A small girl of the same Wutain origin, wearing an inner kimono of a pale pink and an outer one of gray that had pink embroidery and a pink obi. He hair was down and pushed back with a pink headband, though a few strands stuck to her cheeks, held with tears. The people stared at the two, and hastily gave nervous and clumsy bows to the king and princess of Wutai. _

_Rufus ShinRa whispered to his dark-haired Turk, the leader, who responded, "Actually, I don't think that will be necessary. The pilot of the Space Program is here, and we should see if he can do it before we wait for your father to send mechanics."_

_Rufus nodded. "His name?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth._

"_Cid Highwind."_

"_Cid Highwind!" Rufus called loudly._

_Cid frowned and came forward, throwing down his cigarette and smothering it with his heel. "Yea?"_

_But before Rufus could say another word, the little girl broke away from her father and marched forward. She stood and placed her hands on her hips, and gray eyes stared up at Cid. "Can you fix my daddy's airship?" she demanded._

_Cid stared at her. "What?"_

_She seemed to be about to roll her eyes. "Can you fix airships?"_

"_Yea."_

"_Fix my daddy's."_

"_I'm not going to take order from a &…" he looked nervously at Godo. "Four year old." He finished._

_The princess glared at him. "I'm _six_." She held up fingers in demonstration._

_Rufus ShinRa peered down at the little girl, between laughter and disapproval. "Mr. HIghwind, will you fix this airship?"_

_Reluctantly, Cid nodded. "Sure."_

_The little girl marched past her father to a figure who'd come down the ramp in a hurried, unimportant way, barely noticed. The woman put a finger to her lips when the girl stretched her arms at the woman, and the woman shook her head. The girl pouted before she found herself swept up by, not her father, but the Vice President, looking bored. "Well, if you'll excuse us, we'll find a room at the inn. The Princess has been quite upset by the whole ordeal."_

_He wasn't even holding her right, having slung her over his hip almost, only using one arm as he carried her off. "I am not." She protested._

"_Hush, little Princess."_

So the celebrities walked off to find a room at the humble inn, and now Cid was standing in front of it with his small team of mechanics to tackle the problem. "Open her up, boys." Cid ordered, lighting a cigarette.

The group got to work on the ship, quickly identifying the problem and working to rectify it. Soon they were covered in grease and all had goggles snapped over their eyes. Suddenly, a voice sounded from behind him, and he whirled around to find Godo Kisaragi standing in front of him, his little brat by his side. "What?" Cid blurted out.

"I was wondering when you would have this complete."

Cid surveyed the airship. "Well, right now…at best, a week. It's a beautiful airship, but whoever fixed it last or sold you your last parts really screwed you over."

Godo nodded glumly. "I suppose we could leave by other modes of transportation and come back for it," he murmured to himself.

"Mmmhmmm," Cid nodded, not really listening anymore.

"Thank you, Mr. Highwind." Godo bowed and walked back to town, flanked with two solemn bodyguards. However, they were missing something.

"Mr. Highair," a voice chirped.

Startled, Cid looked down to see the little Wutain girl staring up at him. "High_wind_."

She rolled gray eyes. "Anyways," she tugged on a pigtail, "Can I helps?"

Cid blinked at her. "No." he said shortly.

She put her hands on her hips and looked her nose down at him – or rather, up at him. "Mister Highairwind, I _order_ you to let me help you."

Cid chuckled and squatted so he was on level with the girl. His eyes locked with hers in a mini staring contest, and he reached out and yanked a pigtail. "That won't work with me, little brat."

She glared at him.

"I'm not Wutain, girl." He said.

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine." She pouted and sulked off.

Cid shook his head and continued with the task. He would need to send some of his guys over to a town to get parts, and they couldn't do anything further without them. He sighed and fiddled with a cigarette, tucking it behind his ear. Plopping onto the grass, he told the guys they could go home. Relieved, they left the airship and Cid allowed himself to admire it.

One side was facing him, revealing the painted dragon. The green-blue eye seemed to pierce through his very soul, spilling his secrets all over the grass. You couldn't hide from that gaze, condemning and forgiving, anger and kindness. Cid shook his head and stood up. He wanted to see the inside, and strode over to the ramp and walked up. He was admiring the room he had walked into, even if it wasn't all that special, when suddenly-

"I'll show ya 'round, kay?" A voice chirped behind him.

He jumped – he hadn't heard a sound! – and turned to see the little Wutain girl. But she wasn't in a kimono anymore. Now she wore sneakers that were a blinding orange, with black cotton shorts (that were _entirely_ too short to be proper) and a matching orange tank top. Her headband was also the same orange color, but instead of the neat fashion it had been, it pushed back her hair and bangs, and then she'd sloppily clipped her bangs back (a few were still sticking up).

Cid snorted. "I'm fine, kid."

He didn't realize (though he should have by now) that she didn't give up so easily. "Listen, _Mister_, I'm the Princess of one of the only remaining monarchies in the world, and you _will_ do what I say."

Cid grinned, amused. "I will, will I?"

"Yes. You will."

"Alright brat. Lead the way."

With that, she launched into full tour guide mode. Cid chuckled as the short girl bounced around and blabbered about the airship, and attempted to use fancy terms she'd heard the adults saying, but usually replacing it with 'thingie-ma-bobber' and 'that thing' when she couldn't pronounce it. When they came to the kitchen, she grinned and slid to the fridge.

"Snack time!"

She pulled out food and, without bothering to ask Cid, made them both a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. Not bothering to disagree, he hopped up on the counter where she had settled. She bit into the sandwich and smiled happily, chewing the jelly and bread and turning to Cid with a wicked grin on her face. "Do you like seafood?" she asked.

He quirked an eyebrow. "No way, kid. Ain't falling for that."

She pouted after swallowing, and stuck her tongue out at him. "I wish I could stay here."

Cid's eyebrows furrowed. "You've been on this airship for a while, 'ccording to your dad."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean _here._ Rocket Town. You don't hafta be all Princessy all the time. I wanna go home…" she said sadly. "I don't' hafta be a Princess there either. And everyone knows me and gives me candy and treats and yells at me like I was their own kid."

She sadly bit into the sandwich.

"Well whatta you doing away from Wutai?"

"Gotta see the world, Godo says." She said through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Mm. You like your old man?" he asked, ripping off a piece of sandwich.

She was quiet. "I liked him a lot better before…well…he changed. He doesn' like looking at me a lot. Shake said it's cause I look a lot like my Mama."

Cid raised his eyebrows. "What's wrong with that?"

"Mama's dead." She said in the blunt way of children.

They sat on the counter, legs dangling off, pilot and Princess eating a PB&J sandwich. Gruff and the gentle. One's skin was smeared with grease, sticking onto stubble and coating him like a second skin, the second clean but for a spot. A smear on her right hand, where she'd so informally tugged the older man by his hand as she tugged him through 'her' airship. They sat, her blinding neon sneakers in sharp contrast to his simple brown boots.

Cid looked over, and saw her jaw shivered. It was clenched tight, and her eyes were watery, but her chin quivered and then set in determination, her lips a stubborn line. She lifted her chin, the picture of a proud Wutian as she refused to let tears spill out of her storm-gray eyes. Her sandwich was gone, the only signs of it the crusts that lay forlornly on the counter, peeled off and left alone.

Awkwardly, Cid placed a hand on her head.

Her chin quivered and a tear did spill out. He pulled her closer to him by her head, and tears started spilling out of her eyes as she latched onto the pilot. Cid Highwind, famously gruff and foul mouthed, allowed the little Wutian to cling to his dirty jacket and shirt and he let tears spill out of her eyes. He hugged the girl around her head with one arm, vaguely remembering his own father who never did such a thing.

Cid didn't bother to tell her it was alright. He didn't bother to mutter soothings to her, because he didn't know how. He simply let the little girl cry for reasons he barely knew, because he knew that was what she needed. This airship he was fixing was fairly new, but had numerous problems, one of which was too little oil. This little girl was fairly young, but had numerous problems, one of which she had too many tears. It wasn't right. It wasn't right. So Cid let her cry, and looked around for something to wipe her tears. When all he found was grease-streaked, he frowned and turned to the girl.

She wasn't crying anymore.

Hopping off the counter, she beamed up at him. "C'mon Highairwind. I gotta go back."

Shaking his head, he followed the little Wutain girl out of the airship and watched her run off, breeze ruffling her hair and the grass that she ran through. She turned and waved, and ran into the inn they were staying at. He gave a little half wave.

A week later, they flew away. She waved.

He wouldn't see her again for ten years.

--

The ninja girl who was part of AVALANCHE (Yuffie, was it?) had decided to make some food while they took a break, having just arrived in Wutai. The group was easy and tended to their weapons, materia and other equipment while she tended to the food. Lining up bread on plates, she proceeded to smear peanut butter over the bread and lop on jelly. She added apple slices and dished out the food. She came to Cid, who was washing grease off his hands - he had been working on the Tiny Bronco before they left - and she gave him the peanut butter and jelly. Grey eyes met him, and something flickered in his memory. She grinned.

"Snack Time."

--

**A/N:** Some of you are probably like 'ummm, what the heck?'

But can't have Cid getting to sentimental now. He is Cid. I have no clue where this came from, or if I even like it, but I'm posting it.

New: I updated this. Changed it, so the ending may be awkward, but I never liked the other ending.


	6. Breaking

**One Degree**

_They say everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of separation. _

_For AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one._

**Barret and Yuffie**

Breaking

He remembers that night because that was the first time Barret had discovered exactly what was left of the old AVALANCHE. It had also been the first night he'd met Tifa. Tifa knew who he was, but he'd managed to avoid an introduction. He'd been coming here for a week, and realized that this was a hangout for the remnants of the old AVALANCHE. He'd been watching them for a week now, looking for the regulars, who they hung out with. As for the regulars, he'd discovered all of their names. Biggs, Wedge, Karr, Ame, and Arn. He couldn't yet figure out if they were all members, since the only reason he knew was he'd overheard them on his first night here talking about the strike on Corel. This was also the night the second reincarnation of AVALANCHE came to be. Barret had been planning, and there were two hotheaded siblings in the bar that often got into debates about Shinra, and he hoped to recruit all five of the previous members, both the siblings, and oddly enough, the bartender. She was obviously a fighter, and it would prove an excellent base. Along with him, that would make nine.

Nine. It was an odd foreshadowing, this AVALANCHE, numbered exactly the same as the world heroes AVALANCHE would be in the future.

Well, at least for a while.

That was not the only foreshadowing that night.

Jesse and James were bickering about one thing or another, and the ever cool, ever laid bag Karr was leaning back, his chair only gripping the floor with the back legs as he lazily held his cards up. Ame, the Wutain girl who he had just started teaching the game to eyed him suspiciously. Arn sat at the bar, occasionally making the bartender laugh as he drank a beer and rhythmically tapped his pen against the wood. The other customers lounged about in various places, too early for the drunks and bums to spoil the good mood. All of the regulars had fallen into a rhythm with each other, Jesse and James bickering blending in smoothly with Arn's tapping and Barret's occasional curse as he watched the news. They were all used to each other.

He remembered the door opening because Arn's tapping stopped, and it was odd, the blend of the bickering and the news without the rhythm. So he looked up at the door, to find an empty frame.

Well. Until he looked down.

You would never know she was lost, walking with all the confidence little kids have when their parents are their tired shadow. But no adult came. She strode in, beaming, and when no one followed, Barret immediately tensed. His ranting at the news stopped and his eyes followed the little girl as she strode through the bar like she owned it. Just because it was early didn't mean there wasn't scum. Some eyed her clothes, to see if she was a rich little girl with a rich little trinket or a rich little parent nearby, or even possibly worth kidnapping for ransom. Others eyed the girl with a gleam in their eyes, the one or two perverts in the bar watching her bright little eyes and silky black hair, tied back into a ponytail that bobbed up and down, a bright orange ribbon tied into a bow. The ponytail swished back and forth as she walked, bangs falling across her grinning face.

He lost sight of her for a moment, so he stood. He remembered faintly the little girl of his best friend, Dyne, who'd he'd asked a childless mother in Corel to take care of. Guilt fell over him, remembering the little infant, not even a year old, freshly weaned onto the bottle. She knew him though, from hearing his gruff voice so often in the womb, from seeing him so often, even if she'd only been months old when she'd seen him. He felt an odd protectiveness over this child, even though she seemed so confident. She swung herself up onto a bar stool, and he realized she wasn't as young as he originally thought, just small for her age. She was probably around nine years old, and the bartender's eyes had been following her sharply.

The little girl cluelessly chatted with the bartender, grinning. Seeing one too many people staring at the little girl, Barret walked over to the girl and sat at the stool next to her. The bartender frowned. She didn't trust this menacing black man, who'd avoided her (which couldn't mean anything good) and always kept his right hand covered. Sitting on a stool, Barret could tell the bartender was feeling just as protective as Barret.

"I have a girl back home," he announced, both to the bartender and the little girl.

The little girl brightened. She was a Wutain child, and it didn't surprise him when she said, "Fryd'c- I mean, what's her name?"

"Marlene." He said, softening. The bartender eyed him.

"I'm Tifa." The bartender said, slapping down a beer which he waved away.

"Barret Wallace." He said, and held out his left hand, which dwarfed Tifa's. She awkwardly shook his hand with her left.

The girl didn't like being put aside. Frowning, she poked the man. "Hey mister." She said, commanding his attention.

He looked down.

"Where's your little girl?" she asked, all innocent. "Why isn't she here?"

Barret's heart broke.

"'Cause Midgar ain't no place for a lil girl." Barret said, looking down at her pointedly.

She either ignored or didn't catch the hint. She frowned. "Well you love her, right?" she asked.

The broken heart shattered.

"If only ye knew." Barret shook his head.

The bartender, Tifa, had stopped mid polish and was looking at him with all the empathy in the world, and her chocolate eyes were filled with understanding and heartbreak, her heart flowing through her eyes out to meet him.

"Well then." The Wutain child reasoned, tilting her head. "Then she belongs with you."

Barret's heartbreak was as raw and bleeding as a new wound, and it was spilled over his skin, and the girl was challenging it, rubbing up against it. "But-" he made to say.

She reached up with her little hand and pressed her fingers over his mouth, smiling up at him kindly. "No 'buts.'" She reprimanded, smile still present. "You should be with her. Simple as that."

Barret looked down at this little girl, heart open wide and dispensing his woe and hurt onto the surface for all to see, a little girl who had once been as old as Marlene, had once been a baby all curled up and defenseless. And now, nine years after her birth, she was in a bar telling a stranger - an intimidating one, at that - what he should do. And somewhere this girl had parents, dead or alive, and somewhere that parent was having his or her heart broken as they searched for this little girl, not knowing what had become of her.

"Yuffie!" A relieved call, a grateful breath escaping the lips of the man who stood in the door, thirty or forty-something.

Yuffie, as she was apparently called, looked over at the man in the doorway and hopped off the barstool, laughing and giggling as the man swooped her up, so relieved. Barret could feel the previous panic, feel the man's heart pounding in his chest. He looked at Barret suspiciously, but saw something, maybe saw the wound and raw emotion this girl had opened up.

And as the news flicked to a different story above, Barret nearly choked as he realized who this man was.

Godo Kisaragi was holding his daughter tight, squeezing her as he muttered in her ear a reprimand that he couldn't find the heart to make serious. He put her down and Barret gaped with Tifa, this world leader in the slums, hugging the little girl - a _princess_ - to his chest.

He put her down when she started to squirm. "Rufus is waiting outside."

Tifa dropped the glass which shattered as she realized that the Wutain ruler was in her bar, and the Unofficial Vice President of ShinRa (the boy Rufus was only 15, still, though exceedingly mature) was right outside. She looked embarrassed and swept the pieces into a trash can. Godo walked over, and he'd seen something in Barret that was inexpliable, a connection.

He approached Barret, a menacing man with a gun arm, huge muscles and dark skin, and he took Barret's good hand. "Thank you." Godo said, and Barret was_ touching_ a world leader. "I could tell…I can tell you were keeping her safe." He nodded at Tifa at well.

Then he looked as the door swung open and Rufus was trying to coax Yuffie down from the railing as she balanced precariously. And in him, Barret saw that bleeding, that raw hurt and pain.

"No matter what you do," Godo sighed, looking at Barret because he could tell Barret was a father of sorts, though he knew nothing else, "No matter how hard you try you can't keep them safe."

Yuffie jumped off the railing with a gleeful shriek and Rufus caught her just before she hit the ground and broke a leg or arm, looking frazzled and worn out.

"And from the moment they're born you're afraid because somehow you know this." Godo said, and Barret could see the emotion in his eyes, the love and fear.

"And no matter what you do," Godo continued, shaking his head. "They break your heart, over and over again."

He smiled at Barret, both sadness and gratefulness and he nodded to Tifa and he walked out the stunned bar, starting to scold Yuffie as she smeared mud on the Unofficial Vice President's clothes.

And as Barret watched the news switch to a commercial about lead paint awareness, showing sad children, Barret knew.

What he knew, was that Godo was right, because after that day he would go back to Corel and he would get little Marlene, and from the moment he held the little girl in his large arms, he knew Godo was right.

Because from the moment he held her for the first time after Dyne died, she was breaking his heart.

And because he couldn't keep her safe, and because she broke his heart with her innocence and her naiveity and the promise that something bad would happen to her, he would set out to save the Planet. And the whole time he was gone from her after embarking on a journey, she was breaking his heart with her absence.

And the moment he got back, she was breaking his heart with her smile.

--

**Kat's Scratches:** Yes, this is the A/N. I'm just a dork. Anyway, I like this one, for the first time in a long time.

After this, it may not all be up and front confrontational. Or it may. I'm not sure.

I love Rufus and Yuffie. I think it's pretty adorable. Or that part in Cid and Yuffie was. Anyway, don't take this as 'oh. emm. Gee. Barret doesn't love Marlene and Godo doesn't love Yuffie. It's pretty much the opposite. It's because they love them that they break their hearts. If you don't get it then...I'm not explaining.

This was actually orginally intended to go in a different direction, having to do with Arn being a traitor. But then it didn't. I got stuck, and today I just started typing again, and this happened. lalala. I'm sick still. Layringitis. Or something icky. I kept going to school and coming home (it was real bad yesterday) but I couldn't even get up this morning. I still can't talk, but I'm a little better. So leave a review, tell me what you thought of it. And yes, I am aware I've been doing a lot of these with Yuffie, but she _is_ my favorite character.

By the way, I'm thinking of _another _name change, but this one would be permanent. Cause this current one is kinda...I don't know. The new name would just be one of my nick names, and end up soemthing dumb as always ; like Kit Kat or something.

Leave one!

**K.i.t.K.a.t.**


	7. Cheating

**One Degree**

_They say everyone in the world is connected through six degrees of separation. _

_For AVALANCHE and the Turks, it's one._

**Cid and Cloud (and Barret)**

Cheating

Awkwardly, Cid Highwind entered one of the few churches in Midgar, St. Claudius's Catholic Church. Cid had been born and baptized a Catholic, but had long given up on the practice, skipping out of masses when he was ten to go look with at blueprints and books of flying machines, as well as the infamous Air and Space Museum. He had never been a religious man, but he'd been confirmed at thirteen and though he never set foot in a church after that, he found himself there again. He was young and full of dreams, hoping and fearing for this job.

That's what brought him here. A chance, a hope, a dream. A chance to be the Head of the Air and Space Program at ShinRa. That's what brought him here. Unsure of what to do, he looked around awkwardly, almost reaching into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. He grimaced and remembered the holy water, which he dipped his fingers into and made an awkward sign of the cross.

He looked around for a priest and saw none, but he did see a few people scattered through the pews. One was an elderly woman with a stern face veiled by a black cloth. He'd made no noise, but she looked up and glared at him. Not a good choice for help.

The next person was a blonde spiky haired kid. He looked just as awkward and misplaced as Cid so Cid shrugged and walked down the pew. Birds of a feather, right? And birds of a feather, Cid thought to himself, _was _the right phrase because the kid's spiky hair was highly reminiscent of a chocobo. So he sat down and the kid looked up at him, and his eyes were a clear blue, darker than Cid's own, and they reminded Cid of a fatal error screen, and just as blank.

"Hey, uh…" Cid whispered, and even that seemed too loud in the arching ceilings and empty silence of the church. "I haven't been here for a while and…uh…do you know if there's uh…confession and all that shi-" Cid stopped himself.

The kid lifted his head and looked from his folded hands in his lap to Cid and shrugged sheepishly. "We're in the same boat." He said.

"What? You trying to confess?"

"No." the spike haired kid said, looking back at his legs. "Just pray. But I'm cheating…"

Cid raised a brow. "Eh?"

Spike, as Cid had dubbed him, looked up again and his eyes were wider for a moment, before restoring to normal. "I mean, it feels like I'm cheating, you know?"

"Why?" Cid asked, and pulled out a cigarette. The kid eyed them and a nosy, stern looking women looked over disapprovingly from the pew across the aisle. He glared at her and fiddled with it, because he always smoked when he was nervous but wasn't about to do it in a house of God.

The kid gave a watery, sad smile. "I just came here to pray because I…I wanted something. But now it feels like I'm cheating. And all I can think of is what I need to make up for…but even then I…" he frowned. "I can't…"

And Cid knew exactly what he meant.

"I know what you mean." Cid nodded, tucking the cigarette behind his ear.

"And now I can't." Spike said. "I can't.."

Cid nodded, and he saw a black, bulky priest walk in and go to a little room that proclaimed it was confession. Cid stood and nodded to the kid before walking out of the pew and turning. He stopped and remembered to genuflect on one knee, and when he straightened and turned, a sudden curiosity came over him.

"Hey kid," Cid said, because he was really only a kid, and sure enough, Spike looked up.

"What was it you want, anyway?" Cid asked.

The kid gave that wavering, sad and uncertain smile again, brisk and fleeting, only just hitting the high point of the smile before falling. "I want to get into SOLDIER."

Cid nodded.

"What about you?" Spike asked, and Cid was surprised.

"I never said I wanted anything." Cid said, gruffly.

Spike looked at him with those fatal error eyes and the fleeting smile came again. "I can tell." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Takes one to know one, right?

Cid nodded. "I…I want to get this job." The boy looked at him with his blank, blue eyes. "Head of Space Program." Cid said, and even as he said it his heart welled with pride and fear.

The kid nodded. "Good luck."

"And you too, Spike."

The kid looked confused momentarily at the name, but Cid was walking to the door next to the one where he saw the bulky, black priest go into. Cid hesitantly opened the door.

He sat down, and he could faintly see the priest (though barely) through the wicker separating screen.

"Uh, hello." Cid said, and the priest jumped.

"Whatchu…What are you doing here?"

The man had an accent that Cid recognized as the speech of miners from Corel.

"I'm here to confess."

"Oh…." The priest looked down and frowned. "Well, eh, how long has it been since your last confession?"

"Long." Cid answered. Even through the screen he could see the wry smile.

"Well…er…go."

Cid peered at him with a curious look, despite the obscure view. "You're a priest, right?"

The man puffed up, straightened. "O' course I am!"

Cid raised an eyebrow. "Alright. Well…"

"What have you done, _my son_." He said, as though to prove his priesthood.

And Cid thought of the kid sitting outside, unable to pray, and this man across the screen who wasn't a priest, and he thought of the job and of ShinRa and of God and of the woman outside the little room who had glared at him for taking out a cigarette, and didn't she have family or someone to be with? He thought of the old woman, and why wasn't anyone taking care of her or with her and why did she wear that cloth over her face? And of the kid who wanted something, but now could only think of what he needed to make up for, and Cid felt guilty, and he thought of this man, and what he was trying to do.

"…I cheated," Cid said softly, and with that, he stood and left confession.

And as Cid walked out, he lifted his head and saw Fatal Error eyes looking at him.

The kid smiled.

--

**A/N:** I added Barret because that's who it was orginally supposed to be, and that's who is in the little thing. There will be another from Barret's POV, that has this little thing as a part of it. He's on a little AVALANCHE thing, by the way. I am probably twisting and screwing up timelines left and right ,so feel free to shout at me and say 'Oh no, no, you idiot, Barret was still in Corel when Cid got the job and _Cloud _wasn't trying out for SOLDIER then oh god what's wrong with you?' Haha.

So yea, this one went a totally different way then I wanted it to but...you know, whatever. I kinda like it. The end is iffy for me, but you know...

So leave a comment, I'd 'preciate it.

**.K.i.t.K.a.t.**


End file.
